Page 31 of One Week Hating You
She stands straighter and settles a hand on her hip. She shoots me the evil eye. “You know what’s harsh? Leaving someone at the altar without a word, leaving them wondering what the hell happened, what went wrong. And not giving them the answers for twenty-four hours. Nowthat’sharsh.”
Yes, definitely.
“You make an excellent point,” I say. “Yeah. I’m not replying. Ever.”
“Good girl.”
And so the game officially begins.
* * *
We’rebusy packing up Blake’s Silverado. He’s got the camper hitched up already – it’s just a big white box right now, but soon enough, it will be our little cottage on wheels. The kids are giddy, running around. Blake is serious and in charge. I’m a nervous wreck, and Corrie is her usual self; mischievous.
We’re just about ready to go when Corrie gets a call on her cell. She’s all smiles when she picks it up, but as soon as she hears the voice at the other end, her face falls. Whatever it is, it’s something serious.
I watch her intently, as if her expression and slight movements could give me any indication of what is happening. I think about her parents – maybe one of them has fallen ill, or had a sudden heart attack. They’re both in their sixties, still young.
“Is he okay?” she asks. “Is he conscious?”
Whatever has happened is serious.
She’s in tears now. “When did this happen?”
It must be her dad, I conclude. My bet is on a heart attack.
“I told him that bike was stupid,” she cries.
Uh-oh. Bike. She must be talking about Jacob. Fuck. He must have been in an accident.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she says. “I’m up north right now. About two hours away. Sure…” she adds. “Thanks for calling me, Sandra.”
Oh… she’s talking to Jacob’s sister.
She says goodbye and turns to me. Her eyes are wet. “It’s Jacob,” she says. “Got in a motorcycle accident. He’s at the hospital.”
I take her into my arms. “I’m so sorry, Corrie.”
She’s always bitching about her soon-to-be ex, but deep down, I know she loves him. Always has. She and Jacob are like magnets. No matter how much they say they hate each other, they always seem to be drawn back together. Their relationship is intense.
I hold her tightly as she sobs into my t-shirt. “I told him to get rid of that stupid bike,” she cries.
I don’t know what to say. I’ve never been very good in these types of situations.
Blake makes a sudden appearance, confusion written all over his face. “What’s up?” he mouths.
I don’t say a thing. I just wince. He can wait.
The kids are curious, and Blake kindly shepherds them away and keeps them busy. They help him pack up my bike; an old red beach cruiser.
Five minutes later, after an extensive cry fest, Corrie tells me she has to go. I offer to come with her – I’m sure Marilyn will understand. Corrie tells me to stay put and to have fun. She flashes me a wink, and I smile.
We grab her stuff and stick it in the back of my small SUV – she’s borrowing my car. She tells me she’ll call me to let me know what’s going on.
I hug her again and we exchange sad goodbyes. I’m too flustered to even think about the implications of this for me. I’m too busy thinking about her and Jacob, and hoping that Jacob will be okay.
I wave goodbye as she climbs into the driver’s seat of my car, and she zooms off a minute later.
Blake is by my side as soon as she’s out of sight. “What happened?”
